


Cutting Remarks

by paladxns



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, And also because he and Allura are lowkey matchmakers, Hair Salon AU, Keith is a dork who thinks Lance is cute, Lance is a dork who thinks Keith and his hair is dumb but still really cute, Lance is a hairstylist, M/M, Modern AU, Shiro told Keith to get his hair cut bc it's too LONG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7750882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paladxns/pseuds/paladxns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith <i>swore</i> that there was a certain complacent or sly or <i>some</i> kind of air to this guy as soon as he made his approach. It was in his long stride, and in his broad, almost <i>wry</i> smile. It made his own shoulders stiffen a little, because his grin was downright <i>disarming</i> and Keith found himself watching the worker intently, because <i>wow, he was actually kind of cute--</i></p><p>“...Okay, I take it back. If <i>that’s</i> what you’ve been walking around with, maybe Coran <i>should</i> choose your cut,” the employee- <i>Lance</i>- snorted, before bringing his hand down on his coworker’s shoulder.</p><p>Cute until he <i>opened his mouth.</i></p><p>[Or, the one where Lance is Keith's hairdresser, and the two discover that they've got more chemistry than either of them are willing to admit. The fact that they continue to coincidentally bump into one another over, and over, and <i>over</i> doesn't help much, either.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cutting Remarks

**Author's Note:**

> My first swing at a multichapter fic for this fandom! I sincerely would appreciate any comments/kudos, as those motivate me to continue writing. :) Please let me know what you think.

When Keith walked into the hole-in-the-wall establishment, he wasn’t entirely sure as to what he was expecting.. but it sure as _hell_ wasn’t some retro-futuristic twist on the modern hair salon.

The first thing he noticed was the evident _space_ theme- which actually explained why the sign outside read as “space _snips,”_ instead of what he assumed was supposed to be “space _ships.”_

 _Spacesnips_.

Space. _Snips._

The pun was so bad that he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the sign long enough in order to cringe at it. What was worse? Though Keith didn’t get a grimace in, he _did_ give a quiet little snort.  
  
He really needed a new sense of humor.

It was ridiculous- almost as ridiculous as the fact that he was even inside the shop. Keith wholeheartedly blamed Shiro, because _Shiro_ was the person who urged him to get a haircut ( _trim_ , Keith negotiated) in the first place. As reluctant as Keith was, it had been all too difficult to back out of his promise of “soon” and “eventually” once an address was scribbled onto a napkin and shoved in his hands.

Still, after a day of contemplating whether or not to go through with Shiro’s firm “suggestion,” Keith finally decided that, as easy as it was to tie back the majority of his hair, his bangs were an _entirely_ different story. Though they only marginally hindered his sight, and weren’t _too_ much of a nuisance, he figured that appeasing Shiro would get the daily texts consisting of strings of the scissors emoji to finally stop.

In short, the salon, as cheesy as it was with the subtle galactic theme, looked like the _exact_ kind of salon that Shiro would go to get his hair done and dyed. Hell, in general, it came across as the type of place that _would_ offer those kinds of outlandish, yet undeniably stylish, hairstyles. It was a little intimidating, because all he wanted was a little trim, but there was no chance that he’d bring himself to walk out after the bell above the door made his presence known.

Inside, only four people were present- and it looked as if three of them were employees. A woman with dark skin and contrasting pale hair pulled up into a neat bun stood behind what Keith assumed to be a customer, looking like the epitome of grace as she deftly wielded a pair of scissors. Meanwhile, someone in the back of the shop seemed to be organizing hair products, whilst the other worker was--

...Now standing at the reception desk.

Keith could have sworn that the mustached man wasn’t there two seconds ago, but rather than look shocked, he only lifted an inquisitive brow.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the man spoke, tipping his head the slightest bit in cheerful greeting. Keith noted that he was sporting an accent, and though he was unable to pinpoint exactly what kind it was, the name ‘Coran’ was etched into a glinting silver badge pinned to his shirt. “May I ask- are you a walk in, or do you have an appointment? And, in either case, your name?”

Before he could get a word in, let alone open his mouth, the woman with the white hair spoke up.

“Keith, is it not?” She inquired, looking up from her work to regard him- all with some sort of wry _glint_ in her eyes and a complacent upward quirk of her lips. Keith nodded slowly. “Shiro mentioned that you would be stopping by in due time. Pardon my manners- I am Allura.”

(A bottle clattered to the floor, but Keith didn’t pay much attention to it, seeing it was most likely just the worker stocking shelves.)

And, as quickly as the (one-sided) conversation began, it ended with Allura turning away to glance at said shelves, before running a comb through her client’s hair. Coran started writing something down in a guestbook, and Keith palmed the back of his neck.

He wasn’t being _awkward._ It was just… weird, that Shiro apparently _talked_ about him to his hairstylist. Especially because he probably sat down _forever_ while getting it bleached and dyed. There’s a lot of potential things that Shiro could have possibly said, but Keith just hoped that none of those things were _that_ bad.

“Alright, then, Keith,” Coran chirped, starting to tap his pen on his chin. “What are you looking for today? Color, perhaps? Or a whole new look, of sorts? It seems as if you could do with--”

“ _Jeez,_ Coran,” the worker in the back interjected, sounding absurdly smug with that lazy drawl of his. Keith, needless to say, tracked the source of the voice with his eyes- the person who dropped the shampoo bottle just moments ago. “Let the guy choose his own look, would you?” Coran’s expression went indignantly sour for a hot second, and Allura laughed under her breath.

“...Right, then. You were going to say, sir?”

“Just a trim,” Keith responded. He reached up to tug a little on a section of his fringe, as if to emphasize his point, at which Coran nodded.

“Lance will be your dresser today,” the man prompted jovially, looking over his shoulder and gesturing to the person stocking shelves with boxes and bottles. With a quick pivot, the other employee was making his way towards the front of the shop, while…

...Sizing him up? _What?_

Keith _swore_ that there was a certain complacent or sly or _some_ kind of air to this guy as soon as he made his approach. It was in his long stride, and in his broad, almost _wry_ smile. It made his own shoulders stiffen a little, because his grin was downright _disarming_ and Keith found himself watching the worker intently, because _wow, he was actually kind of cute--_

“...Okay, I take it back. If _that’s_ what you’ve been walking around with, maybe Coran _should_ choose your cut,” the employee- Lance- snorted, before bringing his hand down on his coworker’s shoulder.

Cute until he _opened his mouth._

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Keith immediately sprang back. Who did he think he _was?_ Upon impulse, he lifted a hand and let it rest on his hip as he narrowed his eyes at this Lance character... who was evidently not the greatest at picking up customers. Shiro mentioned something about friendly staff, but nothing about a (cute) _asshole._ Keith was almost offended by Shiro, too.

 _“Lance,”_ Allura warned, almost at the same time Keith snapped. She made a clicking noise with her tongue, and Lance visibly deflated.

“It was a _joke_. You people have no sense of humor,” Lance grumbled, before almost immediately brightening back up to sweep his arm from Keith, then towards one of the seats set up in front of a large mirror. “Riiight this way, _sir.”_

Keith? Keith wasn’t impressed- _whatsoever_.

“Seriously? After a comment like _that,_ you expect me to trust you with a pair of scissors against my throat?” Keith inquired; challenged, even.

“I- _really?_ Did you just imply that I might kill you if you let me cut your hair? _That’s_ kind of extreme, considering I like my job,” Lance responded, with one eyebrow quirked upwards. Keith gave a noncommittal shrug- he would admit that the hairdresser was attractive, yeah, but he wasn’t _as_ such after he insulted his hair.

“Lance,” Allura repeated sternly, sounding like a reprimanding mother instead of a boss or something of the sort. With sort of a reluctant sigh, Lance shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Keith- or, sir- _whatever,_ ” he said, looking back over at him. Keith figured that he had been paying attention to his conversation earlier, seeing as he apparently knew his name? “If you would be so kind as to follow me, I sincerely vow _not_ to make an attempt on your life,” Lance proclaimed, one hand crossed over his chest and the other solemnly raised in the air, in some sort of ‘scout’s honor’ type of gesture.

He flashed Keith a small smile, and… it, paired with the apology, appeased him. Slightly. Mostly because Allura was staring firmly over at them, and Lance’s expression was both endearing- he looked kind of like a guilty puppy- and pleading. In response, Keith nodded, and Lance perked up considerably.

His timing had been impeccable, too, because yet another customer stepped in behind Keith as soon as he walked forward to follow Lance towards one of the seats propped up in front of a large mirror and a vanity of tools. A glance at Allura revealed that she was back to snipping hair, all with a satisfied smile on her face.

When Keith was seated, Lance promptly brandished a galaxy-patterned cutting cape around his person and secured it behind his neck. He snorted upon seeing it- the store name _Spacesnips_ was apparently taken seriously. Lance gave him a funny look, which Keith caught in the mirror. Once the seat was elevated, courtesy of Lance, Keith felt the weight of two gentle hands on his shoulders.

And he didn’t know _why_ it made his face feel a little warmer than it had been previously.

“Alright, so a trim,” Lance announced. “Anything you can do to help clarify what you want, exactly?”

“Well, first of all, I kind of want to live through this haircut, _so_.” Keith responded, pushing a breath of air past his lips in attempt to sweep some of his bangs out of his eyes. Surprisingly, the comment earned a tiny _laugh_ from his hairdresser.

Oh, _God,_ that _laugh._ He was _cute._

“Yeah, yeah, I already promised not to kill you, or anything,” Lance responded, rolling his eyes. He finally moved his hands from Keith’s shoulders… oooonly to lift them and experimentally card his fingers through his hair. Keith didn’t know why he was so surprised about it- it was the guy’s job to work with hair. “Seriously, though- what am I doing, with all...” He gestured broadly at Keith’s entire head. " _This._ Frankly, I can’t believe you can still _see._ Just sayin’.”

“Frankly, I didn’t ask. Shorter bangs? An inch, at most, I guess,” Keith suggested. Really, he was never that big on hair, so describing what he wanted when asked… It was a little strange, especially because it’d been so long since he last did. Again, Lance made a face.

“You mean you want to _keep_ the mullet?” He questioned, almost looking offended as he paused his hands pausing in his hair. Keith arched a questioning brow at him.

“...It’s not really a mullet, though?” He stated, though it sounded a little bit more like a ‘duh’ sort of question. “The back doesn’t matter too much. I pull it back anyway.” Lance snorted, prior to rolling his eyes and stepping aside to pull a pair of scissors from a drawer in the vanity. His fingers left Keith’s hair, who felt both surprised and slightly affronted with himself for feeling the teeniest bit discontented with their absence.

Yikes. _Yikes_ was his thought when he lifted his eyes to the mirror- when he started to stare at the smiling blue ones reflecting back at him.

 _Major_ yikes, even.

In an attempt to swallow any more thoughts of _‘oh no, he’s cute,’_ Keith pursed his lips and settled for dropping his eyes to the cape draped over his person. He was perfectly on board with tracing shapes- made up constellations- on the star-printed article for the rest of the cut, but Lance…

“Look up, please?” The stylist requested, holding up the scissors and a fine-toothed comb. Keith didn’t hesitate to do as he was told, but suddenly the close proximity of the scissors to his hair wasn’t what concerned him- it was Lance, and how close _he_ was as he leaned in to part Keith’s fringe with the comb. He didn’t know why he decided that he had to hold his breath, but he _did_ , and he forced himself to do so until he Lance finally stepped back to regard the hair framing his face. Calculating blue eyes flickered back and forth, while the person who owned them pursed his lips in thought.

 _Damn it,_  Keith was looking at his _lips._

He didn’t realize how _intimate_ a haircut was when it came to getting his bangs cut. In fact, he didn’t recall ever getting this flustered in the past, but… that could probably be attributed to the fact that the only hairstylists he’s had in the past were either himself, Shiro, or female- and none of them were people he had to be flustered around. The fact that he was starting _now,_ around his person he didn’t even _know,_ was… well, it was almost a little disconcerting.

He almost regretted not opting to wait for Allura to finish with her current client. _Almost._

When Lance finally set down the comb and poised the twin blades of his scissors around a lock of hair, though… Keith’s gaze hardened on his reflection in the mirror. _It was just hair,_ he told himself- and yet, as the clippers closed around the hair, Keith couldn’t help but stiffen. And it seemed as if Lance took note of this, because he promptly moved them back to shoot him an inquisitive stare.

“Aaaare… you okay?” He asked, almost sounding amused. Keith managed a small nod… though after taking another glimpse in the mirror, at _unfairly blue eyes,_  he elected to shut his own instead.

(Granted, that meant he was going to have to _trust_ Lance with his hair, so he snapped them open almost seconds later.)

“Yeah,” Keith responded, “yeah. Just- start already? Please- or something?” Lance huffed back, grumbled something under his breath, _then_ … then proceeded to cut.

And the first lock of hair to fall onto his lap made Keith legitimately _gasp-_ and made Lance choke on a laugh.

“Hey, relax,” he assured him, “I’m _still_ not gonna cut you, or anything. You good, dude?”

_(Who called their hair clients ‘dude’? It was strange- and yet Keith was… slightly endeared.)_

Keith managed a simple word of confirmation, but when he glanced up at the mirror before him _again_ , he found himself able to see just a little bit better- without black fringe obscuring parts of his vision. It was surprising, but what was more surprising was the way that Lance had been looking, too.

The way he was _smiling._

This total, complete, _utter_ stranger who initially insulted his hair was now smiling warmly at Keith’s reflection.

“...Huh. So you really _do_ have eyes. _Shocker.”_

He _should_ have been offended. He _should_ have clicked his tongue, and he _should_ have pulled a sour face at the remark. Instead, however… Instead, Keith found himself with the tiniest slant of a smile tugging the corner of his lips upwards.

“Shut up and keep cutting, would you?”

“Um, _bossy.”_

“What happened to ‘the customer is always right’?”

“Oh, please. When the customer is walking around with a head full’a _this,”_ Lance explained, using his free hand to gesture broadly to Keith, “then the customer is probably _never_ right.”

Keith disagreed. He was _positive_ he was right about this Lance guy being _really annoying._

...But also _unfairly_ cute.  
  



End file.
